I just wrote a post a day or two ago, and I don’t usually update my blog very often…but I felt the need to address the reactions I see on social media to the tragedy in Paris on Friday evening.

There are tragedies that can be attributed to the Islamic State of Iraq and alSham (ISIS) and their allies that occur on a regular basis. Two bombings happened in Beirut on Thursday. A massive attack killing 147 people happened in Kenya in April. There was little to no news coverage, certainly not to the scale that we are seeing for Paris. Is that because tragedies in these places are so common that we are numb to them? Is that because we value some lives more than others? Is that because this time, they’ve gone too far, and too far west? Are we less comfortable with attacks when they are against people who live in a European country instead of an African or Middle Eastern one?

As one of my friends wrote on Facebook, “I am all for solidarity”. I have nothing against those who stand with the people of Paris and want to show their support. But I am concerned about the trending. Tragedy should not be a trend. It should not have a filter to place over your picture that gives the illusion of interest and global awareness that does not in fact exist. The “try it” button that allows everyone on Facebook to be able to place a veil of compassion over their  everyday lives, just because their friends are doing it, despite not knowing anything about the event or what led to it.

I am concerned with our focus on #prayforparis instead of focusing on how the Parisians themselves are responding by allowing strangers into their homes, taxi drivers driving people home for free, comforting each other. Instead I see people who are not even from Paris or have any relation to Europe saying things like, “This is why we shouldn’t let refugees into Europe, #prayforparis, #deportallmuslims”. As if the refugees aren’t running from these exact people. As if all Muslims are terrorists.

Equally, I am very uncomfortable with how often we just press “share” without even reading an article past the headline. I have seen many people sharing an article about the attack in Kenya by al-shabaab which killed 147 students, with no idea that it occurred months ago in April.

Do show solidarity. Do care about the world around you. Be up to date on events and things going on. Understand, instead of mindless sharing. And talk to people, even if, especially if, you disagree with them. Hearing another side is important, even if it doesn’t change your mind, just so that you can see that your opinion is not the only valid one.

Only by talking and truly communicating can we have peace, not by frivolously changing our profile pictures to keep up with the trend of being globally aware.

Peace for the World.

For some further reading:

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/11/why-im-not-turning-my-facebook-photo-blue-white-red/

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/03/what-isis-really-wants/384980/

The day I got on the train in London and traveled to Paris was the morning of January 7, 2015. Coincidentally, that was the same morning that terrorists attacked the satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo. So as I was sitting on the train eating my cheese and bread like a good backpacking tourist I received a text from my mother telling me to be safe, that a terrorist attack had just happened in Paris.

I spent the next two days being a tourist in the city, and my life was largely unaffected by the event. I tried to grapple with the fact that I was being a tourist, just a dumb tourist, while an entire country was in mourning. I took pictures in front of monuments, monuments where the flags were at half mast. I stood in the rain, waiting my turn to go into Notre Dame. I walked through the Louvre and made my way through a sea of Asian tourists with selfie sticks. I helped my new Chilean friend clip a lock with his boyfriend’s name in a heart onto a bridge, a symbol of eternal love. And I walked past “je suis Charlie” posters in cafes, restaurants, and my hostel.

The experience in Paris was a strange one, because I was trying to equate the wonderful time I was having in the city with the fact that a terrorist attack had just occurred.

Now terrorists have attacked the City of Love once again, and this time have killed over 140 people. While this was happening, I was standing in Under Armour, my new place of employment, bemoaning the fact that it takes so long to register a passport and be cleared to receive a paycheck.

I don’t know how to address what happened in Paris. I’m still trying to come to terms with it in my mind. The things I do know:

1. I am so grateful to Facebook for having a safety check-in, so that I know my friends there are safe.
2. We are so lucky to feel so safe. I worry about a mugging, not a terrorist attack. Maybe I should worry more.
3. The world is a messed up place.

All I know is that I am grateful that I am safe, devastated that people want to hurt others in such a violent way, and angered at the response. I have seen many responses, to be fair, but they all fit neatly into two groups. One, pray for Paris. And two, “I’ll pray for European victims of terror as much as they pray for Jewish victims of terror”. This last group…it solves nothing. Bitterness and resentment does not bring back anyone from the dead, does not save the incredibly misguided and angry people who think that violence is the best way to achieve their goals, and does not help the world heal and move forward.

It is not necessary to turn the other cheek and get hit again in order to leave behind your resentment. If everyone would have compassion, the world would be a better place.

Peace to Paris.

Everyone told me that coming home would be hard. Being back with people who had not gone through the same experiences as me; people who would eventually get tired of hearing my stories about falafel, the beach, and the conflict; people who, frankly, didn’t really care because they have classes and significant others and their own drama to worry about. I’ve gotten pretty used to it at this point, and I know when to not bother bringing up a story that I’ve suddenly remembered; I’ve stopped unconsciously saying “Slicha” instead of excuse me; and I never ask for the “heshbon” instead of the check at a restaurant (mostly because I can’t afford to go out for meals really ever, but that’s besides the point).

Yesterday changed all of that. We received an email from Chief Ed Shupp, the head of the Lehigh Police Department, that Philly area schools are under alert for a potential attack.

Here’s the email:

The entire school went into a panic. Students weren’t leaving their rooms, Professors are cancelling class, although mine didn’t and sent this entertaining email instead:

And in general there was mass hysteria and concern. My first, cynical, thought was that maybe next time there’s a threat against Israel, these people will have a little more empathy for those who live with this fear every day. This feeling of having to be constantly vigilant, of being constantly afraid for your safety and the safety of those around you. The fear of not knowing who around you could be a threat at any given moment. The fear of having sketchy and incomplete information.

Of course, then I checked the news (everyone download theSkimm) and saw what is happening in Israel today. This week has been a tough one for the area following Abbas’ address to the UN, Netanyahu’s address to the UN, and the many terror threats that have actually occurred and caused at least 5 casualties.

I wonder if, tomorrow, when this threat has passed, when the people on Lehigh’s campus and the people on all of the campuses around Philly feel safe again, they will empathize for those who still do not feel safe. I wish I had more faith in that.

For our final Ta Shema trip, we were supposed to visit Ramallah and Ariel. Ramallah is a large Palestinian city in the West Bank, and Ariel is a large Jewish city in the West Bank. This post needs a little background, so bear with me. Ramallah is located in Area A, an area which in the Oslo Accords was given completely to the Palestinian Authority. It is illegal for Israeli citizens to enter Area A without a special permit from the Israeli government. Our trip was scheduled for May 14-15, the same day as Nakba Day. Nakba, or “disaster” in Arabic, is the day of mourning recognized by Palestinians to remember 1948 when Israel won its independence.  There were a number of people on our cohort, including our leader, who were Israeli citizens. The Israeli government decided not to give the Israeli citizens permits to go to Area A, Ramallah, on Nakba Day, and so we had to reorganize our trip and not go.

Of course, we were disappointed. It would have been an awesome experience to be able to see Ramallah and learn about the situation there, because the Israeli presence in the West Bank is felt differently in every city. We had an entire discussion about how we felt about not being able to go to Ramallah, and one thing that really struck me was how upset people were- at the Israeli government.

“Why are they restricting OUR movement?”

“I’m not just Israeli, I’m an American, too! I can go where I want!”

This particular restriction on movement is one of the compromises agreed upon in 1995 as part of the Oslo Accords, largely seen as the first step towards the establishment of a separate, sovereign Palestinian state- something which JStreetU claims to support 100%. But when these compromises actually affect us, we push back against them. Israel is blamed for “restricting” us from going to land which, in other conversations, these same people proclaim we have “no right to be on”.

It is this sort of thinking that perpetuates this conflict. The idea that compromise is good- as long it is other people compromising, and we do not have to bear the burden of that compromise. The idea that other people have to give things up, but we shouldn’t have to.

There was another reason that this situation rubbed me the wrong way. Nakba Day is a day of mourning, of remembrance, of grief. It seems to me that a group of Jewish students from Israel and America wandering around a Palestinian city on a day which is expressly against the creation of the state of Israel is disrespectful at least, and dangerous at worst. Israel had every reason to not grant permits to Israeli citizens on that day.

We discussed all of this in our group, but the fact that it even needed to be stated in such terms was shocking to me. Why was it that we do not want to abide by our compromise, but we expect others to? How can people simultaneously both condemn Jews for going into Palestinian areas and also feel entitled to go themselves on the most anti-Jewish and anti-Israeli day of the Palestinian calendar? These are questions that I do not have answers to, but certainly if these conversations are ones that must be had, please sit down with your friends, family, neighbors, community, please have them. Do not rest on your own entitlement while reserving your judgement for others.

This post is less about what I saw in Hebron and more about the effects of manipulating the truth.

Let me start with saying that Hebron is a city in serious need of help. “Empty”, “desolate”, “tense” are all words that I would use to describe Hebron. Ironically, the name of the city translates to friendship. There are streets that I am allowed to walk down, as an American, that people born and raised in Hebron are not allowed to walk down, as Palestinians. There are sidewalks that have fences down the middle which divide where Israelis and Palestinians can walk.The soldiers charged with keeping the peace in the streets were everywhere, literally on every street corner, asking who we were, where we were from, and where we were going. Being that our guide was Palestinian, we were asked more than a few times. Other than us, I could count on my fingers the amount of people on the streets in the middle of the day. It gave the effect of a severely understaffed historical destination town like one could find in the midwest with its “ye olde saloon” and tumble weeds.

Our guide, as I mentioned, was Palestinian. He took us to talk to another Palestinian man who lives in Hebron and uses cameras to document the injustices he sees on the streets, a cause that I am 100% in support of. Give a man a peaceful camera to document injustice and take away his violent stones and guns which exacerbate the conflict, and one day we may actually have peace…but that’s not the point here. We were talking to the man with our guide translating our questions into Arabic and his answers into English.

At one point a situation was brought up where the Palestinian was railing against the soldiers, one of whom had just last week shot and killed a Palestinian. The very next day, he was back at work “as though nothing had happened”. The part they neglected to mention: the Palestinian who was shot had just stabbed a soldier. We happened to know about the incident, or it would have passed as just another example of the demon Israeli soldiers that we were being told about. I 100% agree that injustices, pain, and institutionalized oppression is occurring on a daily basis in Hebron. You only need to walk down the street to see that. However, deliberately omitting the context of a situation casts doubt on every legitimate thing they may have said. It makes us think; If the situation is as bad as you say, if you are the genuine victim here, why do you need to lie, even by omission? It makes us talk about later, Why do they want to manipulate us, when we are the exact audience that they want? 

The second problem I have with this is more from a marketing perspective. The cohort often talks about how we should engage with our speakers. How can we ask questions that we want to know the answers to, while challenging the speakers in a way that they won’t shut down? JStreetU calls it engaging both our and their self interest. Our guide messed up. He forgot that he wasn’t talking to Americans with no connection to the conflict. He forgot that we were all studying in Israel, all of us with Israeli friends, all of whom had served in the army. By demonizing the entire army, he only served his self interest. He lost all of us when he said that the 18 year old soldier who shot a Palestinian in an effort to save the man who had just been stabbed didn’t care about what he was doing. We all know personally the effects that the army has on people, because those people are our friends. Saying that they are all “brainwashed robots who don’t care about humanity” is not a good way to bring us over to his way of thinking.

Moral of this week’s trip: be careful about how you present information, and be careful which information you accept as truth. Be careful which videos and pictures you accept as truth, too. All of the videos and pictures that our contact showed us started with soldiers running, none of them documented what had taken place to cause the arrest. All of the videos were without context. Everyone picks and chooses which facts they want to present, it is the logical way to present an argument…only use the facts that will back you up. In this case, we were lucky, and we knew that he was manipulating the truth in order to make us think a certain way. It changed the way we saw him, and it ruined everything else he had said. If we had not known, if we had accepted everything he said at face value, it would have wrongly changed our opinion of Israeli soldiers in general.

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Don’t use knowledge to twist the way others think. It doesn’t work for long.

Be knowledgeable, so you can tell when someone is trying to manipulate you.

It’s been quite awhile, and I’m skipping a lot here (all of classes, passover, spring break) by starting with this blog post, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. I decided to join a cohort called Ta Shema spearheaded by JStreetU in an effort to hear an alternate narrative about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and in an effort to broaden my own understanding of the conflict. My entire focus of study is surrounded by the difficult situation here in Israel, and I couldn’t in good conscience continue my studies without hearing the “other” side.

It was important for me to recognize that in a conflict like this one, with so much pain, anger, and bitterness on both sides, that there is a reason that there has been no resolution. It cannot be possible that it is so clean cut and logical, as each side would have you believe. According to the current Prime Minister of Israel, or my cousin living in a settlement in the West Bank, there are very clear steps that must be taken to ensure peace. According to the Palestinian residents of Jerusalem that I had the opportunity to speak to after the first Ta Shema trip, there are some very different steps that must be taken.

We spoke to Palestinians, members of the Israeli left within the government, and religious theologians. We were told that members of the Israeli right did not want to be associated with JStreet, and would not come to speak with us.

There is a great danger in this lack of full disclosure. It was not clear that there was any reason for the apparent systematic oppression which is the truth for those with whom we spoke. It was not clear for what purpose their lives are so difficult and painful, and have been for so long. We, as students, were not given access to any other truth. It is dangerous for us.

The truth we saw was a first hand look at the looming security barrier casting a shadow meters long into the lives of those living on either side. We drove from Jewish neighborhood to Arab neighborhood within what was meant to be the same municipality, but was easily distinguishable for a number of reasons; namely, the end of cleanly paved roads, a glaring lack of sidewalks, and the general feeling of being in a developing country. It was possible to close your eyes and tell if you were in a Jewish area or an Arab one, merely by feeling how bumpy the ride was. As we left one Jewish area, we watched as the sidewalk ended abruptly- leading to narrow streets where the inhabitants rode horses bareback while carrying bags of groceries.

It is dangerous for politicians, who are incapable of sitting at a table and speaking to students because it shows that they are unwilling to bend, and therefore, will eventually break. It is dangerous because the only truth we know is one that looks like needless oppression of an impoverished population. It is dangerous for JStreet, because as an organization it looks like it is limiting its students to only hear part of the story.

The one thing that has been made very clear to me is that there is no “easy” or “right” side. Both sides, if the conflict can even be simplified to far as to say there are two distinct sides, have done irreparable harm to the other. I truly believe that the only way to resolve this conflict is to have open discussion between all levels of both sides, a discussion which is appearing difficult to coordinate and manage, even within the so called “Jewish side”, if there is such a thing.

People ask what I want to do with my degree, and I never have a good answer for them. For me, it always comes back to putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Without an understanding of their language, how can you understand their religion? Without understanding their religion, how can you understand the basis of their culture? Without understanding their culture, how can you hope to understand their way of life, and their politics? And without that, how can you hope to make peace?

It all comes back to understanding and communication, something that cannot be taught in a classroom, but maybe it can be found in East Jerusalem, where the sidewalk ends.

For my week off I decided to hike with a few new friends of mine from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Galilee, a hike known in Hebrew as ים לים, or sea to sea. I could go into detail about the difficulty of the hike, how many miles (or kilometers) we walked, or how many pictures I took, but what really struck me about the entire experience was how hospitable and friendly everyone we ran into was.

We took a train from Tel Aviv to the start point of the trail which is at a beach in Naharia. It is tradition to carry some water from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Galilee and mix the waters for good luck, so here is where I filled my little jar from the shuk (market).

We were consulting our map when a man pulled up beside us on a bike. He insisted on helping us find the trail and gave us detailed directions before continuing on his way. His directions turned out to be impeccable, and we started on our way. About an hour later as we walked through what seemed like miles of banana trees a man pulled up next to us in a four door sedan and asked us if we needed directions. Apparently, he takes all of his sons on yam l’yam when they turn 12, and he gave us his phone number in case we got lost. When we finally reached the end of the banana groves after another two hours of walking a car pulled up asking if we had enough water, and then a few minutes later another car pulled up asking if we needed anything.

When we finally reached our rest stop in Kibbutz Avirim that night, the sun was setting. We had barely made it before dark. We pitched our tent, prepared dinner, and were sitting around the campfire when we realized one of Becca’s shoes was missing! With the help of a local girl we tracked it down, a sneaky dog had taken a liking to it. But because of that shoe we met an awesome family who invited us to stay in their house for the evening! The hospitality and open doors were truly shocking for me.

The next day we reached Kibbutz Sasa where, again, doors were opened wide and we were received with open arms to someone’s home. We were able to cook in his house on a stove, sleep in real beds, and shower. The next morning we were even invited to the communal breakfast in the Heder Ochel (cafeteria). Our host even drove us to the start point of the trail, so we shaved 3km off of our trek.

On our way to Tsfat we encountered some trouble. Everyone on the trail was lovely and helpful, pointing us in the right direction and offering us support and encouragement as we passed by. However, right beneath Tsfat we passed a Purim party with loud music, dancing, and good food and drinks. We, of course, decided to drop by and see what was going on. Becca and I realized immediately that there were no women present, however our two male companions (Jeremy and Jacob) were welcomed immediately by the partiers while Becca and I were ignored almost completely. One of the men pointed at us, said “laila tov” (good night) and then turned away. It was a clear dismissal. Men were walking past us and not even looking at us, which was such a direct contrast to the way we had been treated for the rest of the trip so far. I have never felt so invisible and unwanted as I did in that moment. Jeremy and Jacob went into the party while Becca and I waited outside.

The next day we completed our hike! Again, the people we met along the trail were very friendly and helpful, always pointing us in the right direction if we asked for help (and when we didn’t!). Reaching the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) was such an exciting moment, it felt like it had been such a long time coming even though it had only been a few days. I poured my water into the sea and it felt so right, and like it was closing an important chapter in my life.

Of course, that evening the hospitality continued. We camped out in Kibbutz Ginosar, right next to a pub and a house filled with Thai workers. The Thai workers insisted that we come over for dinner, although they didn’t speak a word of Hebrew or English so communication was very interesting. They made us authentic Thai food with rice, chicken, very spicy chilis, and more very spicy chilis!! The food was delicious of course, and when they broke out the karaoke we traded singing songs in Thai and our favorite classics in English.

Conclusion: This trip was life changing. It’s made me resolve to be more caring and patient with people at home who don’t speak English or are lost and need directions, and just in general to be friendlier to people I pass. In the Northeast we are so used to putting our heads down and ignoring the people around us because we are so busy getting wherever we’re going, and we miss what’s happening around us. The smiles and kind words we received truly lit up the day, while being ignored was a dark smear on an otherwise perfect experience.

Be kind, smile, and climb a mountain <3

Ulpan is over!! My four weeks of intensive hebrew learning has come to an end.

1. Unfortunate conclusions: Sixty (seisheim) and thirty (shloshim) sound suspiciously similar when cab drivers are telling you prices, salesmen at the market (shuk) have no patience for helping you practice your speaking skills, and hot guys think it’s hilarious when you try to order a drink at the bar.
2. Happy Conclusions: I feel way more confident traveling by myself and with others, I can ask for an English menu, and I can have small chitchats with new friends on the beach.

All in all, I’d say it’s been an awesome experience…but I definitely have a lot more to learn. Good thing I’m continuing Hebrew all semester….at 8:30am Monday-Thursday! What a great time of day to be awake and struggling to speak another language. Sadly, it looks like I won’t be able to continue studying Arabic this semester like I wanted because of class conflicts and credit priorities. Time to buy Rosetta Stone, I think.

Regular classes will start on March 8th, so I have a whole week off to go on adventures! For day 1 my roommate Danielle and I rented a car and drove north. First: I do not recommend driving in Israel to anyone, at all. Israelis make New Yorkers look tame, and that’s coming from a born and bred Jersey driver. But it was definitely more convenient than a 3 hour bus ride, so Dani was a trooper and braved the crazy drivers to bring us safely to and from Caesarea.

It’s the first time I’ve been able to really explore a city on my own terms again like I did throughout Europe, and it was a blast. It was a beautiful day, almost 80F. Not only did we get to wander around the ruins, we got to dip our toes into the stunningly blue Mediterranean sea, and we watched a fisherman go diving for his phone. It was a great reminder of why I’m really here…Not to have a set routine and never sway from my class/gym/eat/sleep schedule, although it has gotten very comfortable…but to see the land I am living in, and to explore the magical places that I have access to for such a relatively short time.

I can’t wait to see how the rest of my week off goes!! Until next time friends….keep your toes pointed <3 

It’s a real struggle watching my favorite relaxing day of the week, Sunday, turn into the dreaded first day of the week (יום ראשון). Here in Israel the weekend is Friday and Saturday, so on Sundays at 8:30am (while those of you reading at home are finishing up a fun Saturday night) I head off to class for four and a half hours of intensive Hebrew immersion.

The ulpan (Hebrew immersion) class is much more interesting than I expected, and I’m really enjoying getting to know more useful words than closet (ארון), and really start working on full phrases and things that I can use to get around in day to day life here. Just this evening I was able to ask for the check to my delicious sushi dinner (אפשר לשלם את החשבון)…don’t even ask how much it cost, I’m trying not to think about it!

The food in general here is incredible, and I’m so lucky to be able to try so many different kinds of foods…I’m avoiding Italian just because I know it could never compare to the amazing pasta I just had in Italy, but the falafel is homegrown and it’s incredible. The vegetables and fruit are also amazing, and the deals at the market (שוק) are making my wallet much happier than the supermarket around the corner. I’ve experimented a lot with chicken, and I’m finding that I’m not a bad cook! Gotta do what you’ve gotta do, I suppose.

I still miss Mommy’s cooking though…and Mike’s!

1. Chocolate macarons with a glass of milk is heavenly.

2. So is panna cotta.

3. Don’t be self conscious- whoever you are and whatever you’re doing, own it.

4. Selfie sticks are the worst.

5. Get up early- sleep isn’t worth the extra lines you’ll wait in when everyone else wakes up too.

6. Make friends everywhere you go.

7. Be outgoing- go up to the girl in the bar and say hi! She may turn out to be your sister.

8. Don’t be afraid to be with strangers.

9. Talk to strangers.

10. Rock the tourist look- if you’re being a tourist but you’re pretending to blend, you won’t get either experience, really.

11. See the sunrise.

12. See the sunset.

13. Sit on bridges…there’s something freeing about dangling your feet over the water. Don’t fall off.

14. Look at the ground.

15. Look at the sky.

16. Notice the little things.

17. There is no “real” Paris, or Granada, or Madrid..etc. There’s only the experience you make of it.

18. Not having service can be a good thing.

19. Don’t put in headphones unless you’re going to sleep. Even then, fall asleep to the sounds of wherever you are.

20. Wander. Get lost. You’ll find everything eventually.

21. The things you find by accident are often cooler than the things you google map and go directly to.

22. Make friends with waiters…they’re as local as it gets, and they usually speak English.

23. Wear layers.

24. Eat alone, and eat slowly. Enjoy your own company. Get to know yourself. You’ll find you’re actually pretty cool.

25. Walk alone. Don’t compromise on where you want to go.

26. Walk with a friend. Explore things together, and get excited together. Share details you know.

27. Don’t buy souvenirs. Save little things- train tickets, memories, notes, small change. They will matter more than a cheap trinket in 10 years.

28. Wear red lipstick.

29. Don’t regret anything you do. Know the consequences, learn, but never regret.

30. People are more important than places.

31. Never ignore anyone. Smile at the beggar even if you won’t give them change. If someone asks you for directions, answer them patiently. No one is unworthy of a moment of kindness.

32. Call nothing “weird” or “strange”. Say “different”, or you’re claiming it’s somehow lesser than what you’re used to.

33. Invest in good shoes.

34. Take pictures of everything. Living in the moment is great, but in a day the moment will be gone and you’ll want something to help you remember.

35. Get dressed every day, don’t look like a slob just because you’re traveling. You’ll look better in pictures, and you’ll feel more confident in places you’re unfamiliar with.

36. Sunglasses.

37. Extra socks.

38. Walk in the rain…enjoy it. Don’t let the peddlers force you into buying their umbrella.

39. Reflect at the end of every day. Live it all twice. Remember the high points, low points, and little moments.

40. Make little moments.

41. Bring your own hot sauce- if it’s not in a sausage, Europeans don’t understand spicy.

42. Smile.

43. Don’t be in a rush. Don’t overbook your day, allow yourself to have time to just look around and breath, or take extra time to talk to the waiter over lunch. See #22.

44. Don’t drink too much. Eventually no one will take care of you.

45. Don’t be a wimp. Try everything.

46. You get what you pay for. An 8€/night hostel is going to be crap, a 100€/hotel probably won’t be. Choose wisely.

47. Splurge on food. Gross inexpensive food tastes bad and will make you sick.

48. When trying new food, use the three bite rule: One bite to be brave, one to taste it, and one to make a decision if you like it.

49. Don’t make eye contact with street peddlers if you don’t want them to follow you down the street.

50. Be a witness to the current events going on right now. History is incredible and cities are full of it, but the people that live there in the present day are more important. Recognize them, their lives, and their community.